The Howling (Take 2)
by AccioTintin
Summary: The night that Remus's life would change forever... (I decided to re-write this because the version already posted here was a year old and my writing has much improved since then. Enjoy!)


The night sky is such a fragile thing. Like a large black dome above one's head, punctured with millions and millions of tiny, glowing white lights.

The particular night sky that hung over the Lupin household one night in July was complete with a bright orb of silvery white; a full moon.

The silence that surrounded the home was broken by the sound of wind through the trees and a distant howling.

The property which the Lupin family owned was very large. It had an orchard, a pond, a garden, and a large paddock. The property was edged by forests, apart from the driveway that lead a long winding path through the woods from the road. The house itself was two stories tall, and made from wooden planks and it had a tin roof. Most of it was held up with magic. The stairs were thin and only allowed one person at a time to go up. The windows were small, and the curtains that covered them were pink with a floral pattern. Apart from the houses general appearance, it was immaculate and cosy. Renee Lupin, the mother of the protagonist in this tale, liked to keep her house clean. The furniture was aesthetically pleasing, the colours all suiting one another, matching the floors and the walls. The fireplace, complete with a small jar for using the Floo Network, was made from bricks, reddish in colour. On the dark wooden mantelpiece there was photos of the family.

Renee Lupin was a very beautiful lady, and a Muggle. She wasn't very tall, and she had pale skin. He eyes shone with a lovely green colour and her cheeks were freckled. Her hair was shoulder length and light brown. John Lupin, a wizard and Gryffindor alumni, looked stern, but he wasn't. He had light hazel eyes, dark brown hair, and he was taller than the average man his age. Those two had an only son. The sons name was Remus and he was incredibly clever. His parents discovered he was a wizard when he was three and he had somehow always managed to get a hold of the jar in which his mother kept chocolate bars- No matter how high she put them on the shelf, she always found Remus with chocolate stains on his face and clothes, and the jar off of its perch.

Another howl sounded and Remus, aged five, looked up from the book he had been reading. _Probably just wolves in the forest, _he guessed, and his eyes were back on his book, flicking over the sentences and taking in as much information as he could. His father had told him that once he reached the age of eleven, he'd get a letter that would tell him he could attend a school for magic, just like his daddy did. This excited Remus beyond belief. He'd read so many books about witches, wizards, and magic. It was about time he began his _own_ story.

Remus felt a smile cross his face as he heard rain pitter-pattering on the roof. He loved the sound of rain on the roof, it put him at rest and gave him a peaceful sort of feeling. He put down his book, making sure he had folded the corner of the page, and then stood up. He stretched his small hands upwards, yawning. Remus had light amber eyes, speckled with green. His hair was light brown and rather long. Sometimes he tied it up to keep it out of his face whilst he was reading.

He made his way across his room, to the window. Pulling back the curtains, he looked out over the forest. The moon was high in the sky, the rain was falling rather heavily, and the two goats that his dad owned had gone into the small shed. Remus remembered helping his dad build the shed- Well, he was more of a hinder than a help. He handed wood over, and he tried hammering a nail. He ended up bending three nails before he started to cry. His father had hugged him and said that everybody makes mistakes. Remus just sat and watched from then on.

As Remus continued looking over the yard, he saw something moving through the forest, near the orchard. He squinted, leaning forward in an attempt to see better. What he saw made him squeak with fright.

_No way- It's a Werewolf! _

"Daddy!" Remus exclaimed, running to his door and pulling it open. He raced down the stairs two steps at a time. As he predicted, his father was on the couch, snuggled up with his mother and watching television. "Daddy! There's a Werewolf outside! Near the orchard! Quickly, quickly!" Remus told him, pointing to the front door. Renee yelped, "Werewolf? John!"

"I heard. Where did you see it?" John asked, standing up rather calmly. He suspected it was just Remus's imagination running wild.

"Outside, near the orchard!" Remus said, still pointing to the door. John went over and peeked out of the window. After a few seconds of his eyes searching the premises, he uttered a swear.

"Merlins Beard, you're right…" He reached for his coat and pulled it on. Renee gingerly handed John his wand, and his look was solemn. He leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"It's Fenrir, I bet. I'll go sort him out."

He then looked at Remus, "You stay here, Remus. Do not go outside. Do you understand? You will _not_ set a foot outside this house tonight. It's dangerous." His voice was firm, and Remus nodded his head. John then walked outside.

There was a few minutes of silence, as Remus and Renee looked at one another with apprehensive eyes. There was an angry shout, and Remus couldn't help but run to the door. His mother reached out to grab his arm but he wiggled from her grip. Remus pulled it open and took a few steps outside, onto the porch. He could see his father, standing in front of the werewolf, who had come closer. He was now in the front yard.  
The great beast's eyes flickered to Remus, standing on the porch watching the scene before him. It gave a somewhat triumphant growl and John followed it's gaze. When he spotted Remus, his eyes went wide.

"Remus, no! Get back inside!" He yelled, his voice laced with fear. The beast took a step closer to the home, to the porch, and to Remus.

"Come here, Remmy!" He heard his mother hissing with panic from behind him. However, Remus was frozen on the spot, awestruck by the beast, his matted fur highlighted in the moonlight. The beast began to advance, and Remus mother's breathing was frantic. "Remus, please! Get inside! Remus, listen to me!" She begged, but Remus wasn't listening.

"Get inside!" His father shouted urgently. That was when the Werewolf turned and lashed out, smashing his father in with chest with the back of once large, clawed paw. His father was knocked back, hitting a tree with quite a bit of force. "Daddy!" Remus screamed, suddenly aware of his surroundings and able to move. He ran down the steps to the porch, onto the muddy ground of his front yard. He ran towards his father, past the Werewolf.

His father groggily sat up, and spotted his son running to him. Behind Remus, the Werewolf seemed to snicker.

"Get away! Go inside!" His father demanded. Remus stopped a few metres away, and spun around upon hearing a savage snarl. He gasped, taking a few steps back. The beast was approaching him once more, calmly, slowly. As if it wanted this hunt to last forever.

Remus stumbled over an exposed root just as the Werewolf struck out at him. He felt his ankle twist. Instead of ripping his head open like it should have, the Werewolf missed and the tips of its jagged claws scraped over the soft skin of Remus's face. With a loud yelp of pain, Remus landed on the wet grass, making a squelching noise. He felt warm liquid drizzling down his face and there was no doubt in his mind that it was blood.

"No, no, get away from me!" Remus shouted, trying to crawl away- Trying to get away from the hulking form now standing over him, breathing heavily. The beast's head reared upwards and it gave an ear-splitting, guttural howl.

Somewhere in the distance, Remus could hear his mother shrieking like a banshee, and his father screaming at the monster to get away from his boy, that he was just a kid, that the beasts fight was with him and not his son.

Remus's heart thudded madly in his chest and his mind was racing. He was filled with an overwhelming feeling of pure trepidation that made his hands shake and his breath hitch.  
As the beast leaned down over him, Remus gathered the strength to kick out with a foot. He managed to boot the Werewolf in the side of the snout, to which the Werewolf retaliated by grabbing Remus's leg as hard as it could with one large, cold, wet hand.

Even Remus's father, who was only just beginning to stand up, heard the snapping of the fragile bones in Remus's leg. Remus's scream was bloodcurdling, and his mother's was a scream to match.

Remus now had a twisted ankle and a broken leg; The possibility of him escaping the beast was eliminated.

The beast then grabbed Remus's arms and brought it's face above his. Its hot breath was putrid, like rotting flesh. With each outward puff of air, spit flickered onto Remus's tear and blood covered face.

"Get away from him! Get away from my son! No! Let him go! Please!" Renee was screaming frantically- _helplessly_- from the porch.

Remus's screams were only background noise to the Werewolf as it leaned down, fangs beared, eyes glistening with hunger.

"No!" John pleaded, his eyes watering up with tears, only being able to watch as the beasts sharp teeth dug into his only sons flesh, tearing his shoulder. Blood quickly began flowing down Remus's arm, staining his shirt, which had only been cleaned by his mother the day before. She had been humming happily as she folded it up and put it on the end of Remus's bed. Now she was screeching, despairingly begging for her sons life, unable to help. All she wanted to do was save her boy, but she was terrified of the beast that had him. She knew she wasn't strong enough to take it on and so she could do nothing but watch.

Remus was screaming, thrashing wildly, trying to fight off the beast but only making his wound worse. Tears poured down his bloody cheeks, splattering against his shirt and the grass below him.

His father finally managed to find his wand, which had been knocked from his hand. He pointed it at the beast and cried out the conjunctivitis curse. The Werewolf dropped Remus, pulling away and covering its eyes. It roared in pain, before shooting John a hate-filled glare. It then raced off into the surrounding forest.

After the sound of an overgrown wolf crashing through the trees had faded away, the night was quiet once more, save for the sobs of Renee, and the huffing from Remus. He had surpassed the stage of screaming. The pain had gotten so great he was on the verge of passing out. He could feel something strange coursing through his veins, cold and powerful.

His father limped to him, falling to his knees at Remus's side. He noticed with horror that the wetness on his knees was more blood, than water. He didn't know what to do, looking down at his son, bloody and mauled.

"Remmy!" His mother cried out, jogging across the muddy yard. She, too, fell by his side. She put a hand on his cheek. "No, my baby," She mumbled, her eyes darting over the lashes on his face, the gaping wound on his shoulder. She brushed blood and water soaked hair from his forehead, before looking up into the concerned eyes of her husband.

"He's probably been infected." He breathed. Renee sniffled, a tear sliding down her cheek. "It's like in the stories, isn't it? My son, my baby boy, he's going to be a- a Werewolf?" She asked, the faintest flicker of panic in her low, scream worn voice.

Suddenly, Remus let out a shriek, and his small frame began to convulse rather violently. His mother squeaked.

"Baby, don't thrash around like that! Y-you're scaring me!" She begged, trying to hold him still. John shook his head, and then gathered the shaking boy up in his arms. As he carried his son to the front door with Renee following tearfully he said, "Remus, son, we're going to get you to the hospital, yeah?"

"It hurts… it hurts so much… make it stop, daddy… please, make it stop…" Remus groaned, still writhing in his Johns arms, dripping blood over the porch. Remus's eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold in a pained sob. He didn't want to weep in front of his dad. He didn't want to look weak, although he felt it. He couldn't control his muscles, his whole body shook, and his mind was going from blank, to full of a million thoughts. His wounds stung and ached. There wasn't an inch of him that wasn't in pain.

A lump rose in Johns throat at the sound and sight of his five-year-old sons suffering.

"The doctors will make you better. They'll make it stop hurting, don't you worry, champ…" He whispered shakily as they entered the house. The last things that Remus remembered before passing out were a gentle squeeze of his hand and his mother's voice murmuring, "Hang in there, sweetheart."

He then heard his father's voice, "Saint Mungoes!"

There was a flash of brilliant green, and then there was blackness.

Remus's eyes opened slowly, but they were soon closed when the light hit his retina's, nearly blinding him. He let out a long, tired groan. He tried opened his eyes again, and found himself looking up at a white roof and a florescent light. He breathed in deeply through his nose. He could smell chemicals, they invaded his nostrils and it stung slightly.

"Doctor? It's little Lupin. Yes, he's come to."

A man in a white coat, with grey hair and round glasses, came to stand by Remus's bed.

"How are you feeling? Can you speak?" The man asked in a very proper manner. Remus swallowed, but his throat was dry. He coughed.

"I- I feel kind of sleepy…" He managed to say. The Doctor nodded in understanding. "Of course, you've been pumped with many different anaesthetic's to numb your pain and put you to sleep. Now, can you try and stand up?"

A pretty nurse helped him out of his hard bed, and she kept him stable. When she let his arm go, Remus wobbled but stayed upright. He shakily took a few steps, and then had a proper look around. There were other beds nearby. The bed closest to him was occupied by a boy with messy black hair and glasses. He had a thick cast around his leg. Remus's eyes then settled on a full length mirror on the wall. His breath froze up in his chest as he saw his reflection.

He could hardly believe it was him. He looked sickly, with sunken in cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He had bandages over his shoulder, keeping his arm folded against his chest. The most horrifying part was the half-healed cuts over his face. From his jaw to his cheekbone on the left side of his face was a large puckered up, pink and red wound that had been stitched up. It continued over the bridge of his nose and just under his right eye. Any higher and he could have been blinded. There was also a cut on his chin, nearly slicing his lip.

He felt his knees weaken and he began to fall. His thoughts were racing, back to what had happened. The reason why he was in a hospital hit him like a truck; He had been attacked by a Werewolf. He had been bitten. He had been _infected_.

His life would never, ever be the same….


End file.
